andrewj

• by andrewj (35)
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StumbleUpon is the source of most of WriteSomething's traffic, y'see. People come, write once, then forget it even existed. I'm in Scotland, United Kingdom, currently at 21.31 BST. 'Lo, person talking to me. That would be scary. Y'know, if Wikipedia really had all human knowledge in it, then would we have transparent lives? Wow, people want to die, people want to live, and some people just want to post their email addresses. As for me...I'll leave it at "ellipsis". And as if by magic, she disappeared from the room.
"Where has she gone?"
Nobody answered. He realised after he turned around that he was alone, without anyone to tell him what to do. And he wished now that he hadn't said what he had said. And he wished now that someone had had the sense to stop him before he came this far. But it was no use: it was all in the past now. He had to keep moving forward. Forward and onward. And he would never look back. Welcome to WriteSomething.
You have a choice. WriteSomething can be your:
- Instant messenger
- Anonymous help centre
- Suicide note area
- Spam bin
- Moan board
- Forum
- Place to go when no-one's around
- Dating club
- Advertising billboard
- Social network
- Microblog
- Soapbox
- Stress relief
- Place to find morons
- Timewaster
- Place to post poems
- Place to post stories
- Friend
- Crush
- Love
Oh, and it's a collaborative book. You've been given the spotlight. What will YOU write? Internet ftl. Thank you and goodnight/morning/afternoon. Why must the Internet respond to me? The Internet should be mostly IRC. ASCII art > porn. :P I am typing fast, without thinking. Stupid manipulative internet. Shut up. Swallowing in front of t'internet. How do you feel about that, Internet? I can blame the connection if I want. YOU SUCK. Oh crap, I'm logged in. Who is this Andrew you speak of? Oh sorry Internet, did you want to respond to that? Damn you, feeble internet connection! Uh oh, now I really am not anonymous. I am now logged in. Again. Hi people! [insert text here] T'internet is smaller than you think. I mean, half of it is the same company, y'know. WriteSomething is just like Twitter. Except Twitter actually makes sense because it asks what you're doing instead of commanding you to "write without thinking". Twitter is down. Damn. You're 32900 metres away from me, and I'm still thinking about you. I love you. In the time you read this sentence, three internet start-ups will have been born and one will have died. Donate money to Google so that it can buy all these start-ups, and you can help stop "Web 2.0". We're in it together. But what is the envelope? Hello, people of the internet. While you're here, would you like something to drink? We have infinite possibilities... "You come over unnanounced, silence broken by your voice in the dark, I need you here tonight just like the ocean needs the waves"
-- The Ocean - Mae Who are you to tell me not to think? How am I supposed to stop thinking? Should I stop questioning the point of this website and just type? Insightful observations aren't something you can just come up with. Especially when you're not even allowed to think. If you sign up you can influence which posts go into the WriteSomething book. I've finally created a WriteSomething account! I've been a guest here for MONTHS...

It was The Classic Crime. There was a Bullet For My Valentine as we were declaring our Creed on Hawthorne Heights. Killswitch Engage, and I pulled the trigger. It was her Last Goodnight. I know I’m no Lamb of God, but she deserved it, because all she would talk about is HIM, that Daft Punk. I think his name was Jerry C or something. I don’t even think he’s part of this Faktion! How could she? She knew it would Hinder everything that meant something to us. I saw what she wrote and that Letter Kills me. I mean, I’m no Incubus. Why does she act like such a whore? That’s when I decided to Haste The Day. There’s something odd about My Chemical Romance, but I think it’s just a product of my Mindless Self Indulgence. At Sixx:AM, The Strokes of light are filling the Madina Lake at Linkin Park and all I can think about is that Automatic Loveletter that she gave me. I read it after she gave me that Motion City Soundtrack to the movie I love. Oh well. I’ve forgotten her now. The thought of her is way up in the O-Zone to me, way up high where there are Pink clouds and orange sun rays. She was like the Crossfade to the new chapter of my life. I think after all of this, I’ll be going to Angel City. I mean, Fort Minor is there and I think I’ll be able to find a New Found Glory. There is No Doubt that The Pillows and the Sick Puppies there would be like The Starting Line to my new life. It’ll be the Story of the Year. I’ll find a job with the TRUSTcompany. I mean, I’m pretty good with Nine Inch Nails. Anyone will hire me. Maybe I’ll even find someone new. She’ll be the Tool to my new life. No more feeling Rage Against the Machine. She’ll be The Calling I‘ve been waiting for. No more Armor for Sleep. I’ll be peaceful and as those Bone Thugs ~N~ Harmony. It’ll be like my New Years Day living in Angel City. We could be Smashing Pumpkins and Waking Ashland. This will be A Perfect Circle of life that we’ve created for ourselves. We the Kings of our world will rule with an iron fist. Our Lifehouse will be all we need. This is our Green Day and I hope I will never be Disturbed.

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